


The Morning After

by iamhollsteintrash



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-28 21:13:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5105951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamhollsteintrash/pseuds/iamhollsteintrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The awkward aftermath of a one night stand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ashlyn’s first thought of the day can be summed up with one word.

 

 

It’s 10AM, and she is slowly waking up to the sun that peeks in through the broken slat in her closed blinds right in her eyes and _goddamn_ she has to fix that. She stretches wide and nearly hits the ceiling when her thumb brushes the skin of a sleeping stranger. She hops out of bed, tugging the boxers on her floor up over her hips and picking a t-shirt up off the floor.

 

_Shit shit shit._

 

Ashlyn takes a lot of women home, but has one rule and one rule only. Don’t let them sleep over. That’s how they get ideas. Ideas about dating or even about flings lasting more than one night. Usually she’ll walk them to their cars or call them cabs. As they’re getting dressed, probably still at least kind of drunk, she’ll help them gather their things and double checks – phone, charger, keys, wallet – with them before sending them on their ways.

 

It’s nothing against the women she spends the night with. They’re probably lovely people. But Ashlyn Harris doesn’t have the time or patience to text back and forth and go on dates just to find out they’re not compatible after a few awkward dinners. So she nips it in the bud.

 

Ashlyn rubs the sleep out of her eyes after pulling her shirt on and picks up her phone, tiptoeing to the bathroom and shoving her toothbrush in her mouth as she scrolls through her texts. Most of them are from Whit.

_Where are you??_

_Did you go home with that girl????_

_Ash?_

_I’m going to stop over before heading home to make sure you got home…_

_Oh shit, so you’re definitely home then_

Ashlyn sighs, spitting out toothpaste and cracking the door of the bathroom open enough to see the mystery brunette sprawled across her bed. Ash pads quietly across the bedroom to the kitchen, closing the door behind her and opening the fridge for coffee grounds.

 

After starting the coffee maker, Ash shoots Whit a text.

_Did you catch her name last night?_

_She’s still here!!_

 

 Ash sprawls across her couch, trying to shield her eyes from the sun coming through the doors to the deck as the coffee machine gurgles.

 

“Smells good out here.”

 

She whips around to see the mystery brunette leaning against the bedroom doorframe, smiling sheepishly in one of Ash’s t-shirts. Ash can feel herself turning red.

 

“Yeah… I started coffee. You’re welcome to have some if you want?”

 

“I’m definitely going to take you up on that.”

 

She stands there for a moment, scrolling through her phone. Ashlyn hopes that Hot Stranger (as she’s now dubbed her) is doing the same thing Ashlyn spent the last few minutes doing. When Hot Stranger looks up, Ashlyn drops her gaze.

 

“Do you have any Advil? I feel like my head is going to explode.”

 

“Sure, yeah.”

 

Ashlyn has trouble not letting her annoyance show as she rises to check the medicine cabinet. She had expected Hot Stranger to get dressed quickly and walk of shame right out the door, not put on _Ashlyn’s_ shirt and set up camp in her living room, asking for Advil and taking her up on an offer for coffee _clearly_ meant to be casual. When she emerges from the bathroom, Advil in hand, she tosses it to the Hot Stranger, who catches it with ease.

 

“Do you need water?”  
  
  
“That’d be amazing.”

 

Ashlyn pours her a glass of water from the Brita filter in the fridge, nearly spilling the glass when the coffee maker beeps. Hot Stranger takes the glass and their hands touch, just for a second, in the exchange. Ashlyn catches herself wanting it to last just a little bit longer. Hot Stranger shakes 2 Advil into her palm, tossing them back and finishing the glass of water. Ashlyn watches without realizing, before turning to the cabinets and pulling down two mugs.

 

“How do you take your coffee?”  

 

“Oh I can fix it, don’t worry. I don’t want you to go out of your way for me.”

 

_Then why are you still in my house._  


“Okay. I’ve got almond milk and regular milk in the fridge.”

 

Ashlyn pours out the coffee as Hot Stranger opens the refrigerator for milk. Ashlyn passes her the cup and moves around her to the couch, crossing her legs and checking her phone, praying for a text from Kelley. Nothing. She sends another stream – hoping that the rapid vibrations will wake her up.

 

_She’s still here and she’s drinking my coffee_

_She’s wearing my shirt_

_I need to know her name_

_And why she won’t leave_

_I need to know her name so I can ask her why she won’t leave_

“So,” Hot Stranger says, sitting on the other end of the couch, perching her coffee precariously on the armrest. “Thanks for inviting me back last night.”

 

All Ashlyn can do is nod, finally letting herself meet Hot Stranger’s eyes. They’re beautiful, brown as cinnamon and full of warmth. Then Hot Stranger speaks again.

 

“I’m sure I had a really good time.”

 

Ashlyn snorts. “Are you saying you don’t remember?”

 

“Are you really trying to tell me you do?”

 

“I didn’t say that.”

 

“I bet you don’t even remember my name.”

   
Hot Stranger’s eyebrows are raised, a smirk playing at the edges of her mouth. Ashlyn looks into her coffee cup, willing herself not to turn red. Hot Stranger laughs. It’s not malicious, she’s not mad, it’s warm and gentle and understanding.  
  


“It’s okay, I don’t remember yours. And I feel really bad about it. I’m not usually a one-night stand kind of girl.”  
  


_They never are._   
  


“Oh really?”  
  


Hot Stranger is obviously embarrassed, pausing before she speaks again.  
  


“I’ve never… actually had a one night stand before.”  
  


Ashlyn almost chokes on her coffee.  
  


“Never?”  
  
  
“Is it really that weird?! That I’d rather sleep with someone I know than with strangers I meet at the bar?”  

 

“It’s not that! I just don’t think I’ve ever taken someone’s one night stand virginity before.”  
  


Hot Stranger laughs again, rolling her eyes.  
 

“Well congratulations, I guess.”  
 

“It also explains why you’re still sitting in my apartment when traditional one night stands involve quiet, secret exits.”  


“There’s obviously a whole lot of etiquette I haven’t mastered yet. Cut me some slack.”  
  


There’s a moment of quiet, where Ashlyn gloats to herself. Whatever she was doing last night obviously worked damn well if it got a “I never do this” girl home with her. Her phone buzzes, and it’s finally Whit, quadruple texting.

 

_Her name is Ali!!!_

_Her friends were looking for her last night when you two left together and I had to reassure them Ali was fine a million times._

_I need breakfast._

_When she leaves can we get food?_

“Ali.”  
 

Hot Stranger – er, Ali – looks up from her coffee.

   
“Did you have a sudden flash of memory or did someone text you?”  
 

Ashlyn smirks.  
  


“Which will make you feel better?”  
  


“That’s not fair! None of my friends are up yet to fill me in. I’ve been calling you Tattoo Girl in my head since I woke up.” She nods at the sleeve of tattoos on Ashlyn's arm.  
  


“I was calling you Hot Stranger.”    
 

“I’m flattered! But you have to tell me your name now.”  
  


“I’m Ashlyn.”  
  


Ashlyn extends her free hand to Ali, who shakes it, laughing.  
  


“Nice to meet you, I guess. Or re-meet you.”

  
They talk for a bit, mostly about why they were out the night before – Ali for a friend’s birthday, Ashlyn to celebrate the end of the week and what they were drinking. They agree that there’s a point where the memories stop, and Ashlyn can’t help but slip in that “You must have really been drunk. I can’t believe I would be forgettable otherwise.” Ali rolls her eyes, but eventually concedes that she’s disappointed to have forgotten.  
  


When Ali’s coffee is finished, she brings her mug to the sink, then heads into Ashlyn’s bedroom to change. If they lived in a different world, maybe one where they had met any other way, Ashlyn probably would’ve liked to get her phone number and take her on a date. But instead, when Ali emerges in her clubbing clothes, Ashlyn calls her cab.

 

“It was nice to meet you, Ali.”

 

“Thanks for the coffee, Ashlyn.”

 

There’s an awkward moment where Ashlyn can tell Ali’s about to hug her. But she doesn’t. She walks out the door to the cab and Ashlyn closes the door behind her.

 

When she shuffles into her bedroom, considering getting back to bed, there’s a post it with a phone number on it.

 

_I don’t think I’m very good at one night stands._

_Ali_

Ashlyn smirks, considering throwing the post-it away, but on second thought, folds it and places it on top of the wallet on her dresser. Maybe seeing Hot Stranger a second time wouldn’t be the worst thing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashlyn decides to break her own code and use that phone number.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I thought maybe a follow up chapter or 2 might be fun since y'all responded so positively :) I hope it lives up to expectations.

“So how’d you get her to leave?”

 

Ashlyn is out with Whit, getting breakfast at the only coffee shop in Georgetown they both know won’t be full of hungover college students. While they waited for their coffee, Ashlyn recapped the awkward morning prior. The way Ali had just kind of lounged around, drinking Ashlyn’s coffee and scrolling through her phone. The way they’d agreed that they remembered nothing. The way that her eyes looked in the sun through the window. The way her laugh was all but musical.

 

Okay. Maybe just the part about her lounging around, drinking coffee and not knowing how to have a proper one-night stand. Not the part about how cute she actually was and how Ashlyn had saved her number in her phone as “Hot Stranger” for deniability reasons. Definitely not about how Ashlyn had looked around the house for twenty minutes after Ali left, hoping she had forgotten something (she hadn’t) that would warrant coming back. And absolutely not about how Ashlyn’s thumb had hovered over Ali’s number more than once on the walk over to the coffee shop.

 

“I just kind of… called her a cab. After she finished her coffee. And that was the end of it. I swear though I thought she was going to hug me.”

 

“That would’ve been weird.”

 

Whit’s disengaged, sipping her coffee and scrolling through her phone. In college, the two of them had been close, despite living very different lifestyles. Whit was – for lack of a better word – a bit of a goodie two shoes. Whit worked hard on and off the pitch at UNC. She made Ashlyn a better student, but couldn’t get her to fully shake habits that Ashlyn clung to to this day. Drinking a little bit too much, sleeping with a few too many women. So when Ashlyn was recapping the night before, Whit often tuned out so that Ashlyn could piece together what exactly happened on her own.

 

“Do you remember us leaving together?”

 

“Of course I do. I was the one reassuring her friends that you weren’t going to hack her to pieces in an alley.”

 

Ashlyn has trouble even pretending she’s not frustrated with how aloof Whit’s being. She reaches across the table, wrapping her hand around her best friend’s phone until Whit looks up. Ash clears her throat, trying to keep herself from sounding pathetic.

 

“Whit. I might want to see her again. But I need to know what she was like so I know it’s not just because she’s hot. I need to know it’s because we’ve got something in common or had really good conversation or _something._ ”

 

Whitney raises her eyebrows.

 

“Are you trying to tell me that you think you have a connection with this girl who spent the night in your bed? The girl you wouldn’t stop complaining about _a few hours ago_.”  

 

Ashlyn looks down at her hands, now holding her coffee cup tightly.

  
“I guess so.”

 

Whit’s voice is soft when she speaks up as Ashlyn stares into her coffee, too embarrassed to meet her best friend’s eyes.

 

“You approached her. She was with a ton of people but you were dead set on talking to her. We tried to talk you out of it, but you went right up to her. I think you offered to buy her a drink. And then I think you took shots together. And from then on you two were inseparable. Her friends were nice – we hung out with them while the two of you were whispering to each other. And, like, giggling. It was weird.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah. And the two of you were drinking together but not really with us. I kind of forgot you were there. I think everybody else did too. And then suddenly the two of you were gone. And that’s when I texted you. You didn’t answer so I stopped by on the way home and I heard way more than I wanted to. But that’s all I’ve got.”

 

She shrugs. Ashlyn sips her coffee, wishing with every part of her being she had had just a little bit less to drink so that she could remember at least some of what Whit was telling her. But her last memory is buying a round of drinks for her friends. Well the fourth or fifth round of drinks.

 

“I think you should call her,” Whit says, nodding at Ashlyn’s phone.

 

“How do you know I have her number?”  
  
Whit rolls her eyes.

 

“You and I both know you wouldn’t even give her a second thought if you didn’t have another chance to see her. So call her. What’s the worst that happens?”

 

“I look like an idiot.”

 

“So you look like an idiot for a minute. Then you go out again next weekend and meet someone new.”

 

Ashlyn groans, turning her phone over in her hands.

 

“Can I text her?”

 

“Ash, you have to call. You’re not a high school boy.”

Ashlyn groans, finishing off her coffee and rubbing her temples.

 

“Fine. I guess I’ll call her when I get home.”

-

She doesn’t call Ali when she gets home. It takes the whole day for Ashlyn to work up the nerve to call. She tries to write a script, tries to figure out which time Ali probably won’t answer, tries to think about how flirty she can be. She paces around the house, cleans her room, cooks a full meal. She finally dials Ali’s number while sitting at her kitchen table, an open beer in front of her, twirling a pen between her fingers.

 

“Hello?”

 

Ashlyn’s breath catches in her throat when Ali picks up. She had half hoped that the call would go to voicemail and Ashlyn could leave an aloof, “saw you left your number” type message. But instead, Ali picks up and she sounds like she’s recently been laughing and Ashlyn’s plan goes out the window.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Who’s this?”

 

“Oh, shit, right. Um this is Ashlyn. We, um.”

 

“Slept together? I haven’t forgotten you that quickly. Hey, Tattoo Girl.”

 

“Hey, Hot Stranger.”

 

Ashlyn can hear dishes clinking and water running in the background and can’t help but try to imagine her washing dishes while holding the phone between her cheek and shoulder.

 

“I’m not going to lie, I thought you were going to wait a little bit longer before calling me. I thought you were a little bit coyer than this. Did you remember last night? Or did I get you that interested from just this morning?”

 

Ashlyn turns red, burying her face in her free hand.

 

“No memory surge, unfortunately. I tried to wait to call you too. But my friend wanted me to call you and I didn’t want you to forget about me.”

 

“I doubt I could forget about you. I’ve been wracking my brain all day trying to remember. My friends said we looked like we were having a pretty good time. They didn’t even realize we went home together until your friend figured it out.”  


“Yeah. Whit said that. She said your friends were worried I was going to murder you.”

 

“Well I’m glad you didn’t.”  

 

There’s an awkward silence and Ashlyn’s sure that Ali is waiting for her to make the next move. It feels like a chess game. Ashlyn shifts the phone from one ear to the other, taking a sip of her beer before leaning on her elbow.

 

“So I was wondering why you left me your number.”

 

“I guess I thought you were smart enough to figure it out,” Ali says with a laugh. “Usually people leave their numbers so that they get called. And I figured if you wanted to call me you would. And you did. Which means you probably want to see me again, Miss One Night Stand.”

 

She’s gloating, Ashlyn can tell. It’s endearing and annoying at the same time, but she can hear Ali smiling, which makes it a little bit better. Ashlyn smirks, tapping the pen in her hand on the table and trying to sound more flirtatious than nervous.

 

“Well you caught me. I couldn’t resist the possibility of seeing you again. Would you be willing to get coffee with me?”

 

“I think I could pencil you in tomorrow afternoon.”

 

“Only if you’re not too busy,” Ashlyn says, rolling her eyes. “And you promise to wear your own clothes.”

 

“If you _insist_.”

 

When Ashlyn hangs up the phone, after agreeing on the time and place – a Starbucks a few blocks from her house at 3 – she sits back in her chair.  


Less than a day ago she’d convinced herself she wouldn’t date someone. She wouldn’t go on dates. She’d go to the bars, meet women, and never see them again. Everyone gets out unscathed.

 

And today she’d made plans to go out with a stranger she couldn’t remember fucking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you! As always your comments and feedback are appreciated! Hope you liked it. All the love.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I know this is a kinda dumb and really short but it's one shot idea I had saved in my drafts forever and wanted to finally post. :D


End file.
